


His

by BabyDracky



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: kinkme_merlin, M/M, Multi, Non Consensual, One-Sided Relationship, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 05:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyDracky/pseuds/BabyDracky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin/Mordred possible Merlin/Arthur Older!Mordred reappears and the mind-talking/stalking thing he had for Merlin develops/(has developed) into obsession/possessiveness. <br/>(If Arthur is in there the idea of there being more than one reason to kill a man would be awesome.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	His

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my mother tongue.  
> Beta-ed by Mossylawn (LJ)
> 
> Answer to a prompt @ LJ - Kinkme_Merlin

The moon was full that night. Pure. Beautiful. Powerful.

He looked at the peaceful figure sleeping on the altar. His blond hair was catching every star’s light as magnificently as it was reflecting sunshine luminance through day. The face was one of a warrior, powerful, determined still so gentle. Periwinkleblue eyes were now closed but he remembered them too well, warm behind the ice, kindly honest behind the crowned face. A noble heart.

A heart still barely beating.

A heart his mind will break.

A heart his hands will tear out.

“I’ll kill him” his mind was softly and lovingly whispering while his eyes was devouring the painting of the sleeping king, mesmerized by his chest still slowly raising.

He bent over the Old Magic sacrifice, near enough to feel the gentle and warm breath, a breath he captured between his hungry lips. He inhaled deeply the heady scent of the man, lightly running a burning tongue over the cold lips.

The king of Camelot did taste royal.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” the voice, now, erratic was furiously growling at him.

The voice he begged so many years ago to save him, this voice he prayed to answer him during endless nights, that very same voice he never forgot. Emrys.

Emrys, the man who betrayed the poor lost child he was then, the very first time he came to Camelot; Emyrs, the sorcerer who heard any whispers he shared with him but never answered; Emrys, the powerful warlock who chased him away as easily as a raven take off.   
He laughed. A happy and juvenile laugh.

The man was so predictable.

He despaired for years, knowing the magic he was sharing with him, the bond the man refused to acknowledge, would never be enough because Emrys wasn’t his; he, the fool, chose to serve a powerless human. Not as helpless as any other human, not as weak as any other man; he is King Arthur after all and his story will be recounted for centuries, Mordred can imagine it. But the once and future king could never be a match for his magic. He had to conspire for years, patiently, knowing the king won’t just fall for any trap, that his Court Sorcerer and friend, Merlin, wouldn’t allow it. But Arthur’s force is his weakness too. His lovingly heart would bring about his end. He wasn’t proud of his own scheming, not anymore than betraying the man who saved his life once already but a man had to fight with the weapons that would serve him. And Arthur has always been his most powerful weapon against the Sorcerer, not an easy acquired weapon but the most precious. Emyrs’ Achilles’ heel.

“Mordred, stop it!” the man’s voice cried not so far away from him, next to a winding tree, an ancestral yew. The long and scented branches which belong to the tree are gently whispering above the king’s head. 

He was here. At last.

“What took you so long, Emyrs?” his mind purred satisfied “King Arthur, here, was dying to receive his true love’s kiss.”

"Don't you dare touch him!” spat Merlin threatening him with his magic cane

“Jealous ?” sang his mind “His lips really are an invitation for a kiss”

“Stop invading my mind!” growled the dark haired sorcerer tensed and furious. 

“Never” he promised brushing Emrys’ mind with a gentle wave.

He smiled at him.

Since that very first day when their minds connected, magic bonding them deeply and forever, he knew what would happen. He would have to threaten the prince’s, now king, life to get back what was truly his, his powerful and beautiful warlock. 

The one who would have let him die when he was still nothing more than a helpless child for the sakeof a human prince, the one who refused to acknowledge their bond, tearing his mind apart for years, driving him crazy, the one who betrayed his magical soul to faithfully serve a Pendragon.

“What have you done to him?” growled Merlin, his eyes already turned into liquid gold hardly restraining himself from unleashing his magic.

Not losing his enemy from sigh, the sorcerer worryingly looked at his king, looking for anything that would help him to know about what have been done to Arthur. 

The king looked regal.

Golden skin onto the rough grey stone of the altar, glimmering armor onto the darkness pits of some ritual. Arthur was sleeping deeply but didn’t seem hurt in any way. Merlin released a discreet sigh of relief.

“What do you want?”

Merlin, whatever Arthur had always liked to tell him, wasn’t that stupid to think that Arthur was safe yet. There would be a price to pay.

“You do know what I want, Emrys” answered Mordred, talking for the very first time to Merlin and approaching predatorily.

Mordred was now smiling but not a threatening smile. He slowly came to Merlin, all darkness against his alabaster skin. His black armor glimmered into the darkness like the ink black feathers of a raven. Powerful magic was crawling up the large man's frame, not as powerful as Merlin’s but nonetheless dangerous.

The sorcerer tightened his grip around his cane. He never thought the man’s voice would be the same velvet it was in his mind. Warm and affectionate, passionate and dangerous. 

Poison.

Merlin’s magic cane was now centered into the man chest. 

“One word and you’re dead” threatened Merlin.

“One word and he is dead” gently corrected Mordred.

“You do know what I want” Mordred repeated calmly “And you’ll willingly give it to me for your king sake”

The man’s long white fingers gently brushed against Merlin’s cheekbone, warm against his cold skin. Merlin blushed and blemished at the same time, looking away, not standing anymore to look into Mordred’s ravenous eyes.

“You’re sick” he whispered between cottony lips agreeing to anything to have Arthur back safe and sound, lowering his weapon.

“And I promised you, Emrys, you’ll like every symptoms of this sickness” whispered Mordred, his full lips brushing Merlin’s throat as light as a feather. The kisses were too gentle, wet lips too warm and too soft and the conqueror tongue too hungry. Merlin understood then that Mordred wasn’t just after his skinny body, it was much more, too much, it was his deepest minds, his stripped soul he was craving for.

Bird of prey.

The Raven was savoring the Merlin he caught and held him tight in his velvet claws.

Those predatory hands were everywhere, slightly caressing, gently stroking, snatching from the sorcerer’s unwillingly lips shameful moans.

Merlin kept his now watery eyes opened, refusing to drown in his sorrow, instead immersing himself in the contemplation of Arthur’s peaceful and beautiful face. He would do anything for his king. Anything.

“You can moan his name if you want, Emrys, I won’t mind” Mordred’s velvet voice caressed his senses “I know how much you want something you’d never get, I know how it feels”

“Don’t” Merlin stuttered trying to chase away the invasive mind, allowing his now naked body to be lifted against the rough trunk, allowing those burning hands to hold him tight against that cold armor.

“I know you better than anyone else, Emrys” whispered again Mordred’s mind “Did you really think that our connection was nothing more than the echo of my voice? That it was all? I’ve seen into you more than you’ll ever allow yourself to admit, stripped you to the bones, I can read you like an open book, I can feel you and understand you whatever you do, whatever you are”

“No!” Merlin counter attacked, not refusing that hand on his now swollen and hard manhood, not pushing back those knowing and trained fingers preparing him for stinging defeat but refusing to acknowledge the bond, the ties Mordred was establishing like a spider is spinning an indestructible web.

When Mordred penetrated him slowly, carefully, possessively, Merlin wished he was stabbed by a blunt sword instead. Each trust was calculated, precise, and clever. The man knew how to please him, how to make his body more pliant, gratified. Pain would be more bearable, more honorable.

“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur” his mind was crying with every distastefully, disgustingly pleasant thrust, “Mine, mine, mine” was singing Mordred’s mind in echo shivering, shook.

When Mordred came whispering Merlin’s magic name, his fingertips digging into Merlin’s milky skin where they’ll leave marks, his lips against Merlin ‘s jugular vein, Merlin felt him deep into his body and mind. An explosion of magic. 

Merlin came, a silent cry dying on his lips, his damp fists still against Mordred’s chest feeling it rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall. 

When the man’s hands finally made him stand on his numb legs, he nearly fell flat on the face, crawling to Arthur, putting frozen and shivering hands on his chest. Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall.

“Arthur?” he gently sobbed trying to wake up his king.

“Arthur!” 

Nothing.

Feeling the man’s seed leaked along his leg, Merlin turned around, fast, furious, his eyes burning a boiling gold. 

“Give me Arthur back, now, or I swear I’m killing you on the spot!” threatened Merlin, fever running through his veins, his voice barely audible.

Mordred calmly stand under the yew’s comfortable shadow, august like a black royal raven.

“Kill me, Emrys” he tenderly said compassionately “And you kill him”

“What do you mean?” Merlin stuttered and looked at Arthur again seeing for the very first time the invisible magical patterns drawn all over the king’s body.

“Dark magic” he whispered at a loss of words in front of the ignominy “You didn’t…”

“We do share the same blood now, we do share the same destiny” gently explained Mordred “His heartbeats are mine. If he dies I die. My breath is his. If I die he dies”

“Why?” cried Merlin “You’re insane!”

“You know why, Emrys” Mordred’s mind confessed “Arthur and I are two sides of the same coin now. His destiny is mine. Your destiny is mine.”

They stayed in silence watching each other, nearer in minds they ever had been until now.

“At the next full moon, in one month exactly” Mordred continued “Arthur’s savior, Morgause bastard son, will arrive in Camelot”

“Morgause?” Merlin frowned “Lady Morgana's older sister?”

Mordred nodded.

“He’ll received the accolade from the king conferring him knighthood to serve his Lord and he’ll become one of Camelot’s knight, one sitting at the king table”

“I’ll never let you!” 

“You don’t really have any choice here, Emrys” answered calmly Mordred “I, alive, am the greatest menace to the king’s life, my life is as precious as his. Better keep an eye on me; we wouldn’t want some misfortune to happen to me, would we?” 

“Get lost!” Merlin spat knowing he’ll have to face Mordred soon enough again but for now only wanting to have Arthur back.

“As you wish, lover” Mordred’s mind lovingly caressed his before the sorcerer powerfully shut it down.

Now Merlin was looking into Arthur’s beautiful features knowing that for the man he could endure any torture, he would find a way to save him from Mordred’s magic, he had to. He gently combed the blond hair bending over the man.

For a true love’s kiss Arthur took a deep breath like a drowning man piercing the water’s surface.

For one gentle kiss his king’s eyes fluttered open. Periwinkleblue eyes searching his golden ones.

“Merlin?” his gentle voice, now hoarse, whispered.

“I’m here, Arthur. I got you. Everything will be fine. I swear” answered Merlin leaning his forehead against Arthur’s heart. Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall.

It’ll be worth sacrificing everything to have those eyes looking at him so fondly. It’ll be worth fighting for the magnificent king. It’ll be worth doing anything just to keep that gentle beat keep going.

His frozen hands are on Arthur’s warm chest now, Arthur’s gentle breath brushing his hair, a sparkle of spring in the cold winter of his heart. For Arthur, it’ll be worth anything.


End file.
